


Here for You

by Plume_Sombre



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, HaiKise Week, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plume_Sombre/pseuds/Plume_Sombre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 6: hurt/comfort.<br/>Talking doesn't solve problems, but it helps. / friend!HaiKise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here for You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is supposed to take place in high school in a [childhood friends AU](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4482926), but you don't need to read that fic to understand this one. Implied abuse.

**Day 6 – hurt/comfort:** Here for You

 

Ryouta has been following him for the past hour and honestly it's getting on his nerves. Who did he think he was, his mom? Shougo scowls and walks faster, not caring if he gets lost in the city, but the sounds of hurried footsteps are close behind him and that makes him even angrier. He abruptly turns, his feet rooted on the floor, and through gritted teeth he seethes.

“I don't think you live in this part of the city.”

“Neither do you,” Ryouta bites back.

When did he learn to speak with such ferocity?

(Since he's been standing up for himself.)

“I can damn well do what I want,” Shougo retorts. “Don't you have a photoshoot or some other shit? You're always busy.”

“I would make room to spend time with my friends, but since my best friend has been acting like an asshole for a month, I don't really have anyone to spend time with,” Ryouta says with venom.

He crosses his arms over his chest, still looking like someone's about to take a picture of him, and there's some sort of defiance in his eyes that reminds Shougo of the times he was fighting—

Shougo snorts, shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn't move from his spot. There are two or three people in the street, so it's not like they're bothering anyone by standing in the middle of it. He used to dislike Ryouta's passiveness to what surrounded him, but right now he would have very much liked not being pestered by him for something he doesn't want to talk about. It's a stupid feeling, probably, but if he wants to keep some things from the other boy, he will; nobody can force the information out of him.

“That's none of your business, did you become deaf sometime in this month?” Shougo mutters.

“Shougo-kun, I only want to know what's wrong,” Ryouta growls. “We used to walk home every day, I would sometimes come over and you'd do the same. And now you keep me away from your house. Even your brother's upset! What happened?”

Nothing and a lot of things happened, that's the answer. Nothing worth of attention, and a lot to run away from. Shougo has come to terms that he can't always get what he wants, despite his efforts and how strong his desire is. Ryouta should learn that as well and leave him the fuck alone.

“For the record, I'm allowed to be in a bad mood.”

“In a bad mood and sporting marks on your face and your arms?”

Shougo isn't surprised that Ryouta knows because he did a poor job at hiding them, but he stills all the same and unconsciously clenches his fists in his pockets. He doesn't like the fire in Ryouta's eyes. He tries to tear his gaze away, but remembers at the last second that if he does, it will be a defeat and Ryouta will press further for details. It's not like Shougo doesn't trust him, on the contrary even; but who wants to burden his best friend with something like this? It's not worth telling, anyway, the problem will settle on its own. Kenta is already doing half the job and Shougo just needs to behave to make the process less painful. That's what his brother said. But his brother is wrong on many topics and Shougo actually thinks that behaving or not won't change anything—so he'd rather like doing what the hell he wants.

“I've been fighting, if you really want to know,” Shougo offers with a shrug.

“I've figured as much. I just don't know why you kept this from me.”

 _We used to tell each other everything_ , is the unspoken sentence and Shougo's throat constricts at the thought. They've been friends for almost ten years, ever since that fateful encounter in elementary school, and now that he thinks about it they've never really been separated for a long time. They purposely chose the same schools, joined the basketball club together and they hung out together after class. If someone knows him better than anyone, it's Ryouta. He should have known he couldn't keep this forever to himself.

But this doesn't mean he can't try.

“You don't need to know everything about my life, y'know. We're in high school for fuck's sake, don't you think you're past the whining when your buddy hides a secret from you?”

Ryouta's eyes slightly widen, not enough to clearly say he's shocked, but enough to detect the hurt and the anger.

“My 'buddy'? Is that what I've become to you? A buddy? How can you be so... detached while saying that? I was worried about you! You're not talking much, you keep dismissing me and you won't answer my questions!”

Shougo's fists are still clenched, tightly, and he has to restrain himself from yelling at Ryouta—who's in the right to yell, anyway? But he's never been good at containing his rage and his emotions in general, so his mouth opens and fires out words he's not sure he intends to mean.

“Well, I thought you were mature enough to leave me the fuck alone! You're such a brat, always asking for attention and not giving a flying fuck about personal space!”

“You don't trust me, do you?”

The fire in Ryouta's eyes is still burning. Shougo stays silent for a moment. What can he say, without sounding completely incoherent and paradoxical? He could lie to get on with it, but is it worth losing Ryouta's friendship over something so... trivial? He just needs time. He doesn't want to appear pathetic and weak in front of someone he has protected for years (and who protected him in turn). His head is a mess and his ears are ringing, and he's tired of everything.

“I trust you, Ryouta,” he sighs. “I just need to deal with this problem alone. Well, not really alone, but it's better if you don't get involved.”

It's the start of an answer, and he sees in the way Ryouta somehwat relaxes that it will be sufficient for now. It's surprisingly easy to calm him with reassuring words—perhaps because it gives him the feeling that he'll know more later, or that he has the certitude he can help in a way or another? Shougo is glad, though, when Ryouta stops looking like a wild animal about to jump at its prey, and goes back his usual self, albeit a bit down.

“I really hope you're not alone in this,” Ryouta whispers. “I'm still mad, though. You know you can rely on me, right? I mean, I always come to you first when I need advice or something. So you can do the same.”

Shougo raises an eyebrow at this.

“I hardly see myself exposing all my problems to you so that you can play the psychologist,” he snorts.

At least it makes Ryouta crack a smile, even if he rolled his eyes beforehand.

What follows next though isn't of his taste and he has to step back, wary of the situation. Ryouta is walking towards him with warm eyes and a chuckle at the lips.

“If you don't want my advice, let me give you a hug then!”

“Hell no! We're not ten anymore! And even when we were ten I didn't want your hugs!”

It suddenly became incredibly embarrassing and Shougo is pretty sure his face is so red it makes tomatoes jealous. He tries not to flinch when Ryouta brings up his arms, because that would mean he's scared of a little hug, but he can't help submitting to this gesture of yielding because he just knows Ryouta will chase him for an embrace. Like he did earlier. The bastard.

So he reluctantly glances at Ryouta's open arms, gauges the risks of just approaching and when finding there is none, he sighs and steps closer. Ryouta literally beams and wraps his arms around Shougo with a strong hold, while Shougo lets out an undignified cry. Being showered in gestures of affection is really not his cup of tea and he honestly prefers keeping his distance, but he can't say no to Ryouta.

(There are many things he can't no to when it's Ryouta who asks.)

“I'm here, okay?” Ryouta says against his ear. “Stop trying to be a thug who doesn't need help.”

“What kind of bullshit is that,” Shougo deadpans, but he's softly smiling.

Yeah, it might not be so bad, after all. Ryouta's here and he will always be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering the problem is his father. Thanks for reading!


End file.
